No Such Thing
by Grey Sky Morning
Summary: “Five points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for childish gloating.” dmhg during hogwarts. disregards hpb, sorry.


I'm sorry if this is kind of confusing. My first Harry Potter fic in a loooong time.

**No Such Thing**

He can see the little smeared black clumps of makeup clinging to the skin around her closed eyes.

"Sod off, Malfoy. I was here first."

Ah. Not asleep, then.

"Library's for reading, Granger; not sleeping. By rights, it's you who should leave, as you're clearly not working anymore, and I am."

She rubs her eyes, unwittingly dragging a black trail across her temple.

"Malfoy, I'm in no mood. Leave me alone, _now_."

"Very threatening, coming from a raccoon."

Her hand flies to her face.

--

_"I love you."_

It's all he can do not to shove the dark-haired girl off the bed.

_"Draco, I love you."_

She's doing something very nice to him now, so he manages an _"mmmyoutoopansy…" _just to keep her going.

Every time she says it from then on, he just kisses her; fucks her to make her forget he hasn't given her a reply.

--

"No, you imbecile, you add pomegranate juice there."

"No, you don't."

"If you don't, you die. If you do, you get your antidote. But don't let me stop you; it'll just be _you_ we have testing it at the end of class."

"Much as it pains me to say this, Mister Malfoy, Miss Granger is correct. Be thankful, however, for if you were any other student, I would have allowed you to proceed in bungling your way to your death."

_"Ha!"_

"Five points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for childish gloating."

--

_"Malfoy!"_

"_Granger!_ Is it _my_ fault you forgot to lock the door?"

"I had figured no one _else_ was going to be using the Prefect's bath half past midnight!"

"Likewise, Granger. Likewise."

"I hope you realize that the only thing that's kept me from permanently disfiguring you is that I'm almost fully submerged in bubbles." She gestures to her wand.

He's noticed. He's especially noticed the way little champagne showers of bubbles cling to her exposed, slick shoulders; and to her wet hair.

He decides to have a little fun.

"You know, Granger," he drawls as he saunters towards the bath, "It would be a shame to waste all this nice, hot water. If we shared…" He trailed off and held her gaze with his own.

Instead of being scandalized, she gives a little half-smile.

"You know, Malfoy, that sounds like a fine idea…"

Something sharp catches him around the ankles and then he's suddenly very wet, with the very literal sinking sensation of being dragged down by waterlogged and heavy clothes.

By the time he manages to surface, Granger's out of the bath and dressed in a fluffy robe. She laughs.

"Unfortunately, I'm ready to leave."

She turns to go, and he gapes after her. At the door, she turns over he shoulder, raising her eyebrows.

"Trip Jinx, Malfoy. You're not the only one who knows how."

--

Later that night morning, really, he can't sleep; he's willing himself so hard not to dream about devil smiles, shoulders, and smudged eye makeup.

--

She picks at the little tiny hairs on her arm, he realizes, when she's bored. Not, of course, that Granger could be bored by anything to do with _school_. He sees it at meals, when she's sitting with Potter and Weasley, listening to them talk. At certain times of the day, he can also see the shadow of her eyelashes dance across her cheeks as her eyes flutter in drowsiness.

He feels Pansy's hand under the table, and turns to her, relieved to find that he at least still as _some_ priorities.

--

She's in the middle of lecturing him, correcting him, badgering him, when he tilts her chin up and kisses her.

She kisses him back, briefly; pulls away and he can feel _something_ shoot up into his throat. He's nervous, and bugger him if _he _knows why.

"I was wondering how long that was going to take."

She kisses him, and turns to leave.

"Problems with Parkinson, I guess."

--

He fucks Pansy so hard she cries.

_"Draco!"_

He grabs her face and bruises her with a kiss that's all anger, teeth and venom.

"Pansy, do you think we're having _problems_?"

She props herself up on one arm, forcing him away a little bit.

"Of course not, Draco. It's just… that _hurts._"

He's gentle for a while, taking it slow and very nearly sweet, but then:

_"I love you, you know that, right?"_

--

"You know, if anyone happens to be out of bed, tonight's their lucky night. The patrol is otherwise occupied."

"True."

He says this last as her tongue explores the crease of his hip.

"Granger?"

"Mmm?"

The vibrations of her mouth make it very hard for him to remember what he's saying.

"Don't…"

She stops; lifts her head with a quizzical brow.

"No. _No_. Keep doing _that_, for Merlin's sake."

"Then what is it?"

"Don't ever say you love me."

She looks at him as though he's gone mad.

"Trust me," she says, half laughing, "You don't have to worry about that from me."

He wonders why this doesn't make him happy.

--

"You may not love me, but you care at least a little bit."

"Whyever would you think that?"

"…Well…"

"I could just be using you for the sex, you know."

_"Granger…"_

"All right! I care a little!"

He's in a brilliantly good mood for the rest of the day.

--

The next time they're together, she asks him.

"Malfoy?"

"Hm?" This, as he feels her hips roll into his.

"Are you still with Parkinson?"

Her fingertips dance along his chest, and rake over goosebumps.

"No. No, I'm not."

--

When Pansy's on top of him, he imagines it's Granger; it's the least he can do, though he's not sure why he lied in the first place.

It's the best he's had with the Slytherin girl in a long time.

--

"You lied."

She overheard Pansy talking; somehow, some way. Doesn't really matter, does it?

"I lied. What's your point? We don't love each other. Why do you care?"

He can see her fists clench.

"My point is just that. I _know_ we don't love each other, but you lied. I thought you at least respected me enough to be honest; and that was what drew me. The truth is something that's hard to come by."

"Why do you even care if I'm with Parkinson?"

"Now, _that's _not the point."

"There's no such thing as absolute truth, Granger."

She exhales loudly; steps closer to him, and he's afraid of a repeat of their third year.

"Can't stay away from me, can you?"

Now she's really mad.

"Oh _yes_. Of _course_. I just can't tear myself away!"

She's pinned him against a wall. She leans in towards him, and he bends to meet her.

"Yes, Malfoy, I just can't _resist_ you! _That's_ the reason I can get _thisclose_ to you,"

Her mouth is maybe an inch from his. And then suddenly she's not there anymore at all.

"And I can still walk away."

--

"Draco? Do you love me?"

They're in the middle of the corridor, waiting for Potions to begin. _Why _she had to bring this up here is beyond him.

"Draco?"

All eyes are on them, including the Gryffindors'. Even Granger's, as she's tucked under the crook of Weasley's arm (a sight that makes him ache).

"No, Pansy. I don't."

--

"How do you know you can trust me to tell you the truth?

"I don't."

"Are you still with Weasley?"

"No."

"Are you telling me the— you know, never mind."

"That's right, Malfoy. See how it feels."

"So you _are_ with him? Where is he? I need to kill him."

"No, I'm not; and I thought we didn't love each other. In fact, I'm certain that was established."

"There's no such thing as absolute truth, remember?"

"So…"

"Don't trouble yourself, Granger. We'll see."

**fin.**


End file.
